


Senbaro: 1000 Cranes Just for You

by Sarahfreak (TahlJin)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-28
Updated: 2008-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahlJin/pseuds/Sarahfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allen has decided to thank Kanda for saving his life on his first mission in a manner that hopefully will not result in his premature death. Unfortunately, Kanda doesn't quite like the attention. Yullen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senbaro: 1000 Cranes Just for You

There was something almost fascinating about cultures different to ones own. Already Allen had met many different people and been to many different places, but that never dulled the thrill of learning new things and eating new food. Though most of the exorcists, finders, and scientist still displayed traces of their homeland, most had blended into the Black Order life and abandoned bits of said culture in favour of fitting into the new ‘family’ they had made. Although there was always exceptions to this trend. 

Kanda Yuu was the very epitome of his country and culture. He fit every facet of the Japanese samurai cliché. High ponytail, sword, evil scowl…all that was missing was the obligatory scar (though he did have a tattoo) and gi/hamaka style. He breathed his homeland with every baka usagi, moyashi and ‘che’ he uttered. He only ate soba, studiously trained, was well educated, focused, and sometimes just plain steely. He was in everyway the typical Japanese male, and it amused Allen to no end.

Whenever Allen had free time (between missions, training, and eating) he took to inhabiting the little-used (besides Bookman and Lavi of course) library and flicking through stories and cultural elements that concerned the man of interest. He had decided long ago that he wanted to find a way show his appreciation for Kanda saving his life on his first mission as an exorcist, though it was not an easy feet as the man rarely talked and cared for almost nothing besides his duties as an accommodator of innocence. It was then he stumbled upon the ancient legend of folding one thousand cranes and the meaning behind it. He knew that Kanda was not foolish enough to believe in something that had no tangible truth (even if it was a part of his homeland’s history) that it worked…but still; he had finally found a way to thank the man for saving his life (without being sliced in half that is). Allen then devoted his time to learning how to make at least half decent cranes so he could put into play his plan.

~~

It was after a particularly difficult mission that Kanda stumbled into his room and collapsed onto his nice soft bed. Sighing softly Kanda let himself be swallowed by his sheets and blankets before blearily surveying his room for changes while he had been away. It was then that he noticed something colourful in the corner of his eye, an object that did not belong to his dark, monochrome room. Judging it to be non-threatening (his assessment made by the fact that it had yet to attack him), he slowly pulled himself from his comfy bed and stalked towards the chain of what he now realised to be one hundred brightly coloured and moderately well made origami paper cranes, strung up next to his cracked bedroom window. Cocking his head to the side in confusion, whilst absent-mindedly batting the string, Kanda pondered who would bother taking the time to obviously practice, make, and sneak one hundred cranes into his room while his was on a mission. Shrugging his shoulders in indifference he decided not to bother with it now. He would leave them there and wait to see if the ‘perpetrator’ responsible would reveal who they were.

Unfortunately for Kanda, the person behind the folded cranes never did appear unless he was away on missions (the person obviously had a good survival instinct!). After returning from a three month mission he opened his door to see not one, but four vibrant chains of cranes. Kanda was not stupid. He knew the legend behind folding one thousand cranes (it was said that whoever folded 1000 canes was granted a wish from a crane), but what he had yet to work out was who would bother. Everyone in the Order knew where he came from, so anyone could be capable of pulling off such a feet, but few would go through the hassle or _dare_ to carry out such an endeavour. 

Two missions later and still none the wiser, Kanda was left staring at eight hundred cranes, neatly folded and sorted into eight chains of one hundred. Each chain showed a higher level of expertise and Kanda decided that he would catch the person in the act of delivering the final two hundred, if only to demand a ‘why the hell are you doing this?!?’…Tomorrow, he was going on a mission.

~~

The mission, of course, was just a rumour spread by Komui, who had been persuaded to do so by the business end of Kanda’s Mugen. Soon enough it reached the ears of one studious little beansprout who was just putting the finishing touches on one hundred of the two hundred cranes left to give to the stoic swordsman. Sighing, Allen leaned back in his chain and stared blankly at the origami-strewn tabletop he had tucked away in the corner of his room. He was actually quite surprised that Kanda hadn’t put more energy into finding out who was making and displaying cranes in his room, but had figured that the man found it too annoying to bother chasing it up. Focusing on the paper in his hands he watched as the small square of paper seamlessly formed itself into number one of the last chain of hundred. Ninety-nine more to go and then he’d be done. Just ninety-nine more…

~~

Kanda had decided to forsaken his usual routine in order to catch the pest who had disrupted his life. Sitting in the darkest corner of his room he held Mugen to his chest protectively and waited for him/her to come. Luckily he had only told Komui to say the mission would last three days, so he only had that long until he would find out who it was. Just to be nasty as well, Kanda had changed the layout of his room, removed his light bulb, locked his door and set some booby traps (you can never be too thorough!). If they did make it into his room, he would most definitely hear them before they could make it out again.

~~

Allen had finally finished the last crane that very night. Choosing to leave the trip to Kanda’s room until no one was around to roam the halls, Allen decided to make a well-deserved trip to Jerry’s kitchen before completing his ‘thank you’ for the slice-happy samurai. Six assorted trays of Italian, English, and of course Japanese cuisine later, Allen made his way down the dark halls of the Black Order, juggling his chains of cranes as he stopped in front of his targets bedroom (or ‘lair’ as he liked to call it). Silently turning the handle, he flinched when he heard the click of a lock in place. Growling lightly under his breath he smiled evilly (Black Allen!) and pulled a lock pick from his boot, making short work of what was to be the first of many obstacles in his path.

Stumbling as the door gave way under his skilled fingers, his hand automatically reached for the light switch, which failed to illuminate the room as it should. Growling again under his breath he blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust and bit back a gasp at what he saw. It looks like Kanda had finally decided to catch the crane maker, if the change in the room’s contents were anything to go by. Allen especially didn’t remember the spiked floor mat, the lines of barb wire strung about the room like Christmas lights (at head height of course), and he especially didn’t remember the menacing menagerie of swords hanging (sharp point down) from the ceiling. Yes, it seems that Kanda was most definitely interested to find out who it was…lethally so. 

Bitting back an apprehensive gulp he made his first step into enemy territory, dodging furniture, falling swords and barbed wire as he twisted, turned, and jumped though the samurai’s room like some demented rendition of a ballerina in too tight tights. He finally made it to the other side of the room intact, with all limbs accounted for, though his usually cooperative hair was sticking out in angles that he had never before achieved, even with crown clown. Collapsing against the wall he sat to compose himself, failing to notice a certain swordsman moving into attack stance with an evil glare trained on his unsuspecting victim, watching with narrowed eyes as the person (who he quickly identified as the Moyashi) slowly pulled themselves off the ground to hang the last two chains of cranes.

Allen smiled brightly as he hung the last two chains with others, taking a moment to admire the coloured paper birds illuminated by the moonlight shining through the cracked window pane to his right. Bending his head down, Allen clasped his hands together like he’d seen people of the Order do during mass, closed his eyes and made his wish. He wished that Kanda would live to grow old and age like so many of their fellow comrades had failed to do. He wished that he would survive the war, find someone special (though that may be hard to accomplish), and that he may spend his days in happiness…in short he wished for his comrade what he had given to him (although unwilling) on his first mission as an exorcist…his life. 

Though the wish was used by Allen, he hoped that by leaving the cranes in Kanda’s room, the stone-faced samurai would realise that the wish was for him, and that there was someone out there that was not so scared of him to show that they would support him, no matter how much he liked to push everyone away.

~~

Kanda stopped his slow stalk towards the beansprout when he saw the boy assume the position for what could only be prayer. Transfixed by the almost angelic sight, Kanda watched the multitude of expressions chase themselves around the sprout’s face as he made a wish on the thousand cranes. Why the moyashi anyway? Sure he had saved him once or twice in missions they had together, but he had only really been returning the favour. So why? Maybe this was some sick sort of pity play by the popular white-haired friendly menace that had invaded the Order not too long ago. Whatever the case may be, the fact remained he couldn’t kill him straight away if he wanted answers. The beansprout would live a little longer before Kanda slew him for artistically littering his room.

~~

Allen had just finished his wish when he felt the kiss of cold steel against his neck and the warmth of another’s chest against his back. Recoiling into himself he shuddered as he also felt a breath tickling his ear and the other person pin his arm to his sides by wrapping his other arm around his waist. Struggling and finding it rather useless with the grip of iron that denied him escape, Allen quickly ran through his options before deciding that if he wasn’t dreaming that it was Mugen pressed against his throat, then now was the perfect time to follow the lead of several species of animals and play dead, which was something he’d been meaning to try on Lavi, but beggars can’t be choosers. It would serve the bastard right having to deal with his deadweight (since he couldn’t get out of the grip Kanda had on him without hurting himself) for a while, and it might distract the samurai long enough for him to get the hell out of there. Decision made, Allen collapsed his weight against the swordsman, head lolling back onto his shoulder and standing only due to the arm around his waist. Suppressing a somewhat sneaky smirk, Allen laughed internally…lets see how the stupid samurai dealt with this…

~~

To say Kanda was surprised when the Moyashi ‘passed out’ in his arms was most definitely the understatement of the century. Kanda, to be more accurate, was downright dumbfounded at this turn of events, and stood staring off into space for a good few minutes as he supported the beansprout and stopped him from what would have been an unwelcome meeting with the floor. Shaking his head lightly from side to side Kanda woke himself from his reverie and decided to assess his situation. He currently had an armful of supposedly unconscious moron in his arms, in the dead of night with few options other then to finish the job on his window and drop the beansprout out (Disregarding the fact that Kanda lived in one of the highest tower rooms of course!).

Groaning in frustration he replaced Mugen in its sheath, moving his now free arm under the boys knees whilst sliding the arm supporting the beans waist to encircle his shoulders, carrying him bridal style (A/N Over the threshold *giggle*) to his bed and non too gently dumping the beansprout onto it. He would kill the old man _after_ he satisfied his curiosity, and he would enjoy it too. Settling himself onto the end of the bed, hand once again ready to draw Mugen, Kanda gathered himself together to wait (again) to get his answers.

~~

Allen suppressed a shiver as he felt himself cradled against a warm body, before loosing his stomach as he plummeted onto the jerks bed. It took everything he had to remain limp and not suddenly ‘regain consciousness’ to strangle the samurai in retribution, but survival came first. It seemed the whole ‘play dead’ jig had only delayed his inevitable demise, as he felt the bed dip in the direction of his feet and the weight of the swordsman scowl pierce though his very being. Mentally rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the situation (As if playing dead on the bed of the most notoriously foul-tempered exorcist in the order wasn’t stupidity at its finest) Allen decided that he’d prefer to die sooner rather then later and collected himself before fluttering his eyes to look at the man perched at the end of the bed.

~~

Kanda had just settled himself down for the night, since the beansprout had fainted just at being captured (weakling), when said boy under his scrutiny blinked sleepily in his direction before locking his gaze on his and freezing like a deer caught in headlights. He finally had him and before the moyashi could move, he slid Mugen from its sheath and back to the sprouts neck, uttering the one thing that had been annoying him since the whole crane business had started:

“Why?”

~~

Allen expected Mugen, the scowl, and the split second reaction to his ‘awakening’, he did not, however, expect the one word question growled in a tone that not only conveyed aggression, but confusion as well. Allowing a small smile to creep onto his face he answered softly and clearly:

“Because I can.”

~~

Kanda had not expected such a simple answer and before he realised what he was doing, he removed Mugen from the beans throat and blinked slowly back at the boy that has moved himself into a cross-legged position to better look him in the eyes. The question slipped again between his lips and he wanted nothing more then to reach out and grab it with his hands and back to himself before he revealed quite plainly his stupidity and confusion.

“Why?”

The answer received was only slightly different from the last. Coming back to caress his ears and inspire a warm feeling to travel up from the butterflies in his stomach to envelop him in something not unlike a hug. That feeling then evolved into reality as he felt frail but strong arms wrap themselves around his shoulders in a tentative hug before the fifteen-year-old retreated to a safe distance.

“Because I care.”

~~

“Kanda, I care. I owe you my life. So now I want to protect and wish for yours. Is that so bad?”

Allen stared earnestly back at the relatively shell-shocked teen before once again giving the stupid samurai a hug. Burying his nose in the long strands of the older mans hair Allen tightened his grip on the samurai, trying to covey to him his gratitude, while all the while being lulled by the smell of sandalwood. He started when felt a pair of slim arms return the gesture whilst what could only be a smile curved against his neck. Relaxing his hold marginally Allen allowed himself just to absorb this moment (for heaven knows it wouldn’t last long), and just feel.

His assumption was confirmed when the pair of arms fell from around him and a gruff ‘get off’ was uttered into his ear. Reluctantly he dropped his arms from the samurai and shuffled back to the other side of the bed. Left with nothing else to do, he stared back at the man across from him and saw a spark of understanding and reciprocated gratitude in the swordsman’s eyes. Standing slowly he offered the man a small bow, a smile, and a soft goodnight, before weaving his way through the numerous obstacles to the door. It was as he was turning the doorknob to leave that he heard the other mutter something softly in his direction, before he walked through the door, closing it behind him. Resisting the urge to skip down the hall to his room, Allen allowed the smile on his face to stretch so wide that his face hurt, as he replayed the samurai’s, no Kanda’s final words over and over again in his head. Yes, it had most definitely been worth the time and the near death experience to hear those words. Yes it had.

~~

Sitting on the edge of a bed, in a room illuminated only by the moon seeping through a cracked window. A Japanese male, reminiscent of every samurai tale told, stared at one thousand brightly coloured cranes as a soft smile crept once again onto his usually stoic/cranky face. The smile grew until the edges of his eyes crinkled and the barest hint of teeth could be seen. He had to suppress the laugh of joy that bubbled up within his chest as he once again uttered what he said to the boy as he left. No, he wouldn’t kill the boy this time around, he would be allowed to live a little longer, but only because the samurai was too…happy to bother at this point. No he wouldn’t.

“Your welcome (Thank you)…Allen.”


End file.
